


fill my head with you

by cnomad



Series: cnomad prompts [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injured Evan "Buck" Buckley, M/M, POV Evan "Buck" Buckley, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25602394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cnomad/pseuds/cnomad
Summary: Buck doesn't have much experience with grand romantic gestures. And maybe this doesn't really count as one—can it, if there's nothing really romantic between them(yet)—but he imagines it feels the same.Or: Eddie tries to cook Buck breakfast.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: cnomad prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855642
Comments: 22
Kudos: 235





	fill my head with you

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song [Bloom](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU) by _The Paper Kites_.
> 
> This fic was written to fill two tumblr prompts from [fuhrmana](https://fuhrmana.tumblr.com/): “You did all of this for me?” and “Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

Distantly, Buck is aware of a loud noise pulling him from his dreams. 

Buck’s head is throbbing when he wakes up and his neck is sore from the angle he slept the night before. Eddie’s couch, while convenient, is not the most comfortable piece of furniture in existence. It’s on Buck, of course, that he slept on it—Eddie had been more than willing to trade places the night before, eager to offer up his bed when he’d brought Buck home from the hospital. The doctor’s had released him to Eddie’s care under strict orders. Apparently getting knocked on the head by falling debris in a house fire wasn’t that big of a deal except for the threat of concussion so Buck hadn’t been allowed to go back to his apartment on his own. Eddie, who was still adjusting to Chris being at summer camp, had been quick to volunteer for Buck care duty, before even Bobby could step forward and make an offer. 

There’d been some hemming and hawing—Chimney had pointed out that Maddie might like to have Buck under their care, and Bobby had mentioned (more than once) the guest bedroom that was just waiting for Buck to sleep in. Hen hadn’t gotten involved—she’d washed her hands of the whole situation as quickly as possible, smiling at Buck as she reminded him of her and Karen’s full house since they’d taken in their foster daughter, Nia. Buck hadn’t blamed her one bit. 

It had been up to him in the end—he knew Bobby’s guest bedroom would probably be more comfortable, and that Chimney’s might ease Maddie’s pregnancy nerves. But there was something soothing about the Diaz house that felt right to Buck, something he wanted that none of the other’s could give him. 

Home. 

And there was Eddie too. The way his eyes had looked wild beneath his helmet in that fire, how he had darted forward to wrap his fingers around Buck’s forearms to pull him out of the way. How he had dragged him from the house, his voice wrecked as he begged Buck to stay awake, to stay with him. How he hadn’t left Buck’s side, how he’d climbed into the ambulance with Hen and Chimney, and had refused to let go of Buck’s hand. When Bobby had suggested that Buck might feel more comfortable at his and Athena’s house, Eddie had looked desperate to argue otherwise but had kept his mouth shut. 

So he’d chosen to go home with Eddie for the night. 

(Home with Eddie, he liked how that sounded.) 

The couch might not have been the best sleep available to him, but it was worth it for the way Eddie’s furrowed brow had smoothed out. He wants to lay there, to replay the smile that had tugged at Eddie’s lips when Buck had chosen him, but a loud crash pulls his attention towards the kitchen. His reaction is instant. He’s still in his boxers and t-shirt, but Buck’s up and across the living room in three long strides before he’s standing in the doorway taking in the scene in front of him. 

“What the fuck, dude?”

Eddie whips around from where he’s standing in front of the stove, flustered, one hand shoved into a purple oven mitt that Chris had clearly picked out, the other holding the handle of a pan filled with congealed egg. On the floor is an overturned baking sheet, pieces of charred black bacon scattered beside it. 

It’s endearingly adorable to witness. 

“Buck!” Eddie says, his eyebrows so high they look ready to climb off his face. “I thought you were still asleep?” 

He stares at Eddie, a little dumbfounded. “I mean…I was. But you were making a lot of noise. What are you _doing_?” 

Lamely, Eddie gestures to the table where a plate of undercooked pancakes are stacked high. “I was just—you always make breakfast when you come over so I just wanted to—y’know. Repay the favor.” 

Buck slowly takes in the burnt bacon, the ruined eggs, and the pale pancakes. The only thing that doesn’t look disastrous is the cup of black coffee sitting on the counter. 

“You did all of this for me?” he asks, a little awed. His stomach does a funny little swoop. 

Eddie blushes, his cheeks a ruddy red as he ducks his head and stares down at the pan he was holding. He sighs, drops it onto the stove top and runs his hand down his face. “I mean, I _tried_.”

“You…” Buck starts, his eyes wide. He lowers himself into the chair and pokes at one of the pancakes, watching as the batter oozes out of the side. “You definitely did try.” 

It is, without a doubt, the nicest thing anyone has tried to do for him. Buck’s always been the one for grand gestures—he’s still embarrassed sometimes when he remembers the date he’d tried to arrange for Abby on the hot air balloon—but he’s never really gotten the same treatment in return. 

(Is that what this is? A grand gesture? Buck flushes at the thought.) 

The groan Eddie lets out sounds mortified and Buck can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from his chest. He shakes his head, grinning, and goes to pull one of the pancakes onto the plate in front of him. Before he can start slathering it in butter and syrup—honestly, anything is edible once it’s buried under sugar—Eddie is pulling the stack away from him. 

“Hey!” he cries. “I was gonna eat that!” 

Eddie holds the pancakes out of his reach. He’s firm as he stares down at Buck and says, “No way, man. I know you have a literal head injury, but I am not letting you eat my cooking. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“C’mon, you’re not _that_ bad of a cook,” Buck says, silently commending himself for managing to keep a straight face. “Besides, it’s a sweet gesture. Let me eat the breakfast you made for me.” 

But Eddie shakes his head. “I’m not risking sending you on another trip to the hospital because you tried to coddle my feelings by eating uncooked batter, okay? Put on some pants, we’re going out to breakfast.” 

Later, when his head isn’t aching and his stomach is full, Buck will help Eddie clean the mess in the kitchen. As they stand in front of the kitchen sink, their shoulders will brush up against each other and they’ll share a private smile. It won’t be much—might, in fact, be nothing at all—but Buck will carry that smile with him through the rest of the week. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story feel free to follow me at [my tumblr](http://cinematicnomad.tumblr.com/) where I post way too much and sometimes fill fic prompts and make gifsets. Leave your thoughts in the comments below and thanks for reading!


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